Losing a Friend
by darkblack03
Summary: George's feelings about losing Fred. They are driving him to insanity, and he has to get away. But saying goodbye is always hard


Saying goodbye was never easy. George Weasley knew this better than anyone. He had had to say goodbye to a good many friends, teachers, and family members. The aftermath of the final battle with Voldemort had taken its toll on too many people that were important to him. And naturally, the worst blow of them all- to George at least- was the loss of his best friend, confidante, partner in crime, and- most of all- his twin brother. It felt as though he had a hole in his chest whenever he thought of Fred. Every time he thought the wound had closed, something would come up that would remind him of his brother and it would reopen anew.

George had long since discovered that these types of wounds were the kinds that time could never heal completely. There would still be that dull ache when he saw the place where Fed was supposed to be sitting, right there next to him, snickering as they waited for some unsuspecting victim to fall for a prank. He never could bring himself to remove the chair from their shared office at Weasley Wizard's Wheezes, even though it made him want to cry whenever he looked at it.

The entire Weasley family had taken Fred's loss hard, but it was hard to beat George's grief. Most twins had special bonds and the Weasley twins were no exception. The two boys had done everything together. They pulled pranks, stole things, bothered people. They had gotten their Hogwarts acceptance letters on the same day. They had both become beaters on the Gryffindor Quidditch team. They had even opened their own joke shop once they had left Hogwarts. But now Fred would never get to see his nieces and nephews. He'd never grow old or get married or have kids of his own. It wasn't fair, George thought, that Fred had to be buried underground with Lupin and Tonks and all the other people who had died fighting against Voldemort while the people who had lived could go on living their lives and forget about them.

George could barely survive just thinking about his brother. Sure he was grateful that no one else from his family had been killed, but he just couldn't comprehend why it had to be Fred. Sometimes he drove himself half-mad thinking about who he'd wished had died instead of George. But then he'd think of that person's kids or wife or something else that gave them purpose for living and he'd force himself to think of Fred's purpose for living. Was it this silly joke shop? The whole business seemed trivial now that Fred was dead. Yes maybe that was it. But that seemed like an awfully stupid thing to live for. Family? Yes, family was good. They all missed Fred terribly. But why couldn't Fred just live for himself? This train of thought would always lead George to one of two stations: Had Fred lived for him? Or had Fred lived to die? Both thoughts had unsettled George so much that he had to occupy his brain doing other things to get them off his mind.

Sometimes, George wondered whether or not his family actually cared that Fred was gone. Sure, they had mourned him when he had died, but they had continued on with their lives after the fact. George felt as though his entire life would be disrupted by this event, and he wondered how the rest of the Weasleys could go on living as though it hadn't happened. But then he would come across his mother quietly weeping over a picture of Fred, or Ginny staring mournfully at Fred's hand on the clock, which had turned permanently to _Lost_, and remember that they had loved him too and his death had hurt them all. That George wasn't the only one who missed him.

Losing Fred had even been hard for Harry and Hermione, as they were practically part of the family already. But George always imagined that not one of them could understand _his_ pain. Deep down he felt like his pain was different. Losing Fred was like losing his ear. Sure, it had healed, but nothing could replace his hearing. But to him, the wound of Fred's death was never going to heal because it just kept reopening, and soon enough it would bleed his life out.

George needed to escape before then. He couldn't go on living like this or he really would go insane. The constant, everyday reminders that Fred was gone forever were eating him slowly from the inside out, and pretty soon, he'd be locked up in a padded cell wailing for his brother to come back. He couldn't let that happen to himself. His family had already lost so much, he didn't think they could handle putting him away either. His mother had barely been able to stand burying Fred, let alone seeing her other son go mad with grief. George couldn't take it anymore.

That morning, at about three o' clock, while it was still pitch dark outside, George packed a trunk. He was careful not to put anything in there that reminded him too much of Fred. He quickly scribbled a note to his family, but found a hard time writing exactly what he wanted to say.

_Don't worry about me, I'll be back. Could one of you watch over WWW while I'm gone? Thank you._

He could barely bring himself to write the last word: _Goodbye._

Saying goodbye was never easy.

**TT~TT This made me sad to write. I find myself newly mourning Fred after this. For TheTwoDL's Masterchef challenge/competition.**


End file.
